


I Wrapped It Myself

by lazilylazy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Very very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:52:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazilylazy/pseuds/lazilylazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wants to get Louis something special for his 19th birthday and decides to wrap the present all by himself, just to show Louis how special he is.</p><p>*This may not be completely accurate to events, but I had to twist some stuff to make it fit in the story. Let me know if you have any complaints or if it so too not-cannon for you</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wrapped It Myself

To say that Harry liked Louis was a gross understatement. The first time he met the older boy was in that blessed X-Factor bathroom and Harry was immediately smitten. Maybe it was Louis’ bright blue eyes, or the way his smile lit up his entire face, or the dorky Bieber-hair cut. It might even have been the way Louis immediately struck up a conversation, completely ignoring the fact that Harry was standing at the urinal with his dick out, unsuccessfully trying to pee. In any case, whatever it was, Harry knew in that moment that he was going to befriend this boy, whatever the cost, even if it meant shaving off all his curly brown hair and never eating sweet corn ever again.

It was crazy how easy it was to get along with Louis. As soon as they left the bathroom, Harry was immediately introduced to Louis’ waiting mum, who took their picture, and insisted on meeting Harry’s family. The two boys grew very close, spending all their down time between singing and dancing and auditioning together. They would steal off together and hide in one of the empty hallways, eating junk food and talking about where they grew up, their friends and schools, their hopes and dreams and desires. Nothing was off limits, and in those first few days together, Harry felt as if he had known the Doncaster lad his entire life.

Honestly, when he was eliminated from the competition at bootcamp, Harry’s first thought was that now he would never be able to get to know Louis like he wanted to. Sure, they could keep in touch; but that wasn’t as nice a thought as living in the same X-Factor house together, sharing a room and eating meals together and playing around whenever they could. His second thought was that maybe since Louis was eliminated as well, he’d need a nice shoulder to cry on, preferably Harry’s readily available one.

But before he was able to put his comforting skills to use, he found himself called back to the stage. Harry’s stomach was in knots, especially when he saw that Louis was called back as well. He couldn’t come up with a concrete reason to why a group of boys would be asked to stay back. As the two of them stood up there under the bright lights and the scrutinizing stares of the judges with the other three boys who had been asked to join them on stage, Liam, Zayn, and Niall, for some reason all Harry’s brain could process was the fact that Louis had decided to stand inbetween Liam and Zayn and not next to him. Harry could hardly concentrate throughout Nicole’s speech about talent and second chances and groups, wondering instead if this would also mean a second chance with Louis. Then Simon told them “We’ve decided to put you both through,” and someone jumped into Harry’s arms and his heart was beating wildly because they were all through and he was going to be able to stay in the competition with Louis and sing. Then he noticed the small, strong hands holding him tightly and a high-pitched happy voice screaming in his ear and Harry realized it was Louis in his arms and his heart almost exploded from happiness.

And it was just the beginning.

*** 

“Harry? Come on, mate, we were supposed to leave a half hour ago.”

Zayn’s whiny voice breaks into Harry’s dream about holding hands and eating tacos with a certain brunette lad, and startles him awake from the lovely afternoon nap he had been taken. With a groan, he drags himself out of his soft, warm, comfortable, entirely neglected bed, and glares up at his olive-skinned bandmate while pulling on his shoes. He knows he promised Zayn they’d go Christmas shopping for the other boys that day, but he hadn’t realized how tired he’d be after morning rehearsals. They were so close to the end of the competition and all five members of One Direction had been working extremely hard to prepare for the finale, starting early in the morning and continuing late into the evening. So of course, when they were given the afternoon off for once, Harry immediately decided to reacquaint himself with his bed. But Zayn has different ideas.

“Couldn’t we just go tomorrow or something?” Harry groans, looking around sleepily for his coat and struggling to find the strength to look for it in the pile of clothes taking up the majority of the room he shares with Louis and Niall.

“No. You know we have only two days left to the finals, it’s a miracle Simon let us have the afternoon off and an even bigger miracle Liam didn’t force us keep practicing anyway.” Zayn says, grabbing Harry’s coat from the floor and throwing at his younger friends head. “We won’t have any more time to go shopping after this. And I did let you sleep for a generous 45 minutes. Now come on!”

Sighing heavily, Harry pulls on his jacket, grabs his favorite gray beanie, and with one last longing look at Niall sleeping happily and interrupted across from him, follows Zayn out of the room.

*** 

By the time they’ve been escorted to the mall by two of the X-Factor security guards, Harry has pepped up considerably, humming a little bit to the holiday music blaring through the loud system as he thinks of what to get his friends: something beer-related for his little Irish boy, something silly for the most sensible of his bandmates, and something posh for the brooding Pakistani lad walking next to him. And then, of course, something extra special for Louis. Because it was not only Christmas time, it was also Louis’ nineteenth birthday on Christmas Eve, so he deserved to get something wonderful. But what?

For the next two hours, Zayn and Harry wander around the mall, stopping at various shops and kiosks, looking for the perfect gifts for their friends and successfully escaping their handlers. Harry ends up buying a large novelty beer mug for Niall, a batman action figure for Liam, and a soft new jumper for Zayn when the boy was busy looking at his own reflection in the H&M mirrors. He still couldn’t think of anything for Louis though. None of his ideas seemed good enough. A carrot-themed gag gift? A new pair of colorful braces? A funky hat? A toy microphone? What? Nothing he thought of was good enough.

“Come one, Styles, I need shoes.” Zayn says, interrupting his thoughts and dragging him once again away from the security guards, into an overpriced shoe store.

“I thought you were looking for something for Liam, Z.” Harry says, frowning a bit as Zayn immediately heads toward the fancy, expensive sneakers, already beginning to take off his own shoes so he can try some on. “We only have a couple more hours until the mall closes, and I still haven’t found anything for Lou.”

Zayn pauses for a second, before continuing to place a pair of red and black sneakers on his feet. “Well we can do that in a sec, I just want to try a couple pairs on, yeah?” With an exaggerated sigh, Harry begins to wander through the aisles of sneakers, loafers, and dress shoes, disinterestedly looking around and half-heartedly trying to get interested in a pair of new boots.  
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he sees them, a pair of new, bright-red TOMS. Hurrying over to them, Harry sees that they are the last pair on the shelf and, as luck would have it, in Louis’ exact size. It seems to be fate to find them, especially since just the day before he had noticed that Louis’ old, well-worn pair was practically falling apart at the seams. Personally, Harry is convinced that maybe if the feisty lad would wear socks once in a while, his shoes would be less inclined to wear out so easily. Not that Harry would ever dream of changing any of Louis’ little quirks for anything, especially since his favorite thing in the world is when Louis’ feet do get cold and he has no choice but to borrow a pair of Harry’s socks.  
Grabbing the shoes, Harry hurries toward the cash register where Zayn is buying a pair of shiny, white Supras.

“I didn’t think you liked that type of squeaky-clean shoe; it’s not the type of thing a Bradfrord bad-boy would usually wear, huh?” Harry says. Then it dawns on him. “That actually looks like the shoe that our dear Liam was looking at online last week, was he not?”

“Shut up, Harry.” Zayn says, grabbing his purchase, blushing and looking away as Harry steps up to take his place at the cash register.

“Well he did say that it was too expensive for him to buy. Good thing he has a good friend in you to spend a hundred pounds on a pair of silly shoes.”

“Shut it, Harry.”

“I’m just saying, if someone were to buy those for me, I’d probably think he liked me or something.”

“Harry! If you don’t stop it right now!” Zayn shouts, twisting around angrily and glaring at the curly-haired younger boy. But Harry is just laughing and laughing, knowing how Zayn gets about Liam. It’s quite obvious that there’s something going on between the two of them. When Liam finally got fed up with Louis’ mess and moved into one of the empty rooms in the X-Factor house, only one night passed before Zayn moved in there with him, making every attempt to be his usual untidiness just to please the neat-freak. Whenever the five had down time, the two of them would often go into their room alone and spend hours in there doing God knows what. Harry found immense pleasure in teasing Zayn about his little crush.  
With one last giggle, Harry affectionately pinches Zayn’s reddened cheek and pays for Louis’ TOMS. They exit the store and just make it to one of the many gift-wrapping stations scattered around the mall before the little old ladies running the table leave. Harry starts to hand over his packages, but hesitates before keeping back the red shoes.

“Are those shoes for you or something?” Zayn asks, after shoving his many packages in front of one of the tiny, flustered-looking old ladies manning the table.

“No, for Louis.”

“What, you don’t want them wrapped?”

Harry chews on his lip thoughtfully, before saying “It’s not that, I just thought that maybe I’d wrap it myself. Just to make it a bit more special and stuff.” And as soon as the words are out of his mouth, the coy little smirk forming on Zayn’s smug face makes Harry wish he could take it back.

“So you want to make it special for Louis now, do ya?”

“Oh come on, you know what I mean. Because it’s his birthday and everything.”

“Oh yes, of course, because you wrap birthday presents, and not Christmas presents, huh?”

“Come off it Zayn!”

“No, no, no, don’t mind me. I mean I sure would love a present hand-wrapped by the Harry Styles. But I suppose we can’t all be as special as dear Louis, now can we?”

“Zayn!” Harry groans, regretting ever having made fun of Zayn’s crush on Liam; Zayn was very big on payback. “Ok, yes I want to wrap his present because I think Louis is special and deserves something special. Ok? Happy now?”

With a chuckle, Zayn turns to collect his now nicely wrapped packages, and shoves a hefty donation into the collection jar on the table. “Whatever you say, Curly. I’m sure a hand-wrapped present will make his day,” he says, giving one of Harry’s curls an affectionate tug before turning to signal to one of the guards that they were ready to leave the mall.

“You think so?” Harry chirps, perking up a little bit as he adds his own considerable donation to the now overflowing can, then grabbing his own gifts and hurrying after Zayn, who can’t help but laugh at the green-eyed boy’s enthusiasm.

“He’ll love it, Harry. I’m sure of that.”

***  
Wrapping a present didn’t seem to be that difficult to Harry when the idea first popped into his head. He made them stop at a Hallmark store so he could get wrapping paper, tape, and a bag of little bows for decoration. When they finally got back to the X-Factor house, he left the dinner table early, locking himself in Zayn and Liam’s room, figuring Louis wouldn’t look in there, and he would be done within a few minutes.

Boy was he wrong.

No matter how many times he tries to wrap the shoebox, it never looked good enough, or special enough. It was always too lumpy or the paper was wrinkled or he used too much tape or the paper ripped or the pattern was askew. Forty-five minutes after he started, he has already wasted half the roll of festive paper, is almost out of tape, and is about ready to call it quits and cry when a very confused Liam walks in, looking for Zayn.

“Harry, what are you doing in here?” Liam asks, taking in the distraught lad sitting in the mess of balled up wrapping paper and tape with an amused smile.

“I was trying to wrap this stupid present for stupid Louis for his stupid birthday but it’s not working because I’m too stupid!” Harry cries, flopping backward into the sea of paper and covering his head with his arms so Liam can’t see the tears threatening to spring from his eyes.

“Aw, come on Harry, I’m sure you’re doing wonderfully,” Liam says sympathetically, clearing a space on the floor so he can sit next to the agitated boy and stroke his curls. “You don’t have to be an expert gift wrapper to make the present special. I’m sure Louis will love the fact that you actually tried to wrap his gift, and won’t care how it looks.”

Sniffing a little, Harry wipes his eyes and lifts his head so he can look into Liam’s eyes. “You really think so?”

“Of course I do.” Liam answers solemnly. “Now wrap it one more time, be satisfied with how it turns out, and realize Louis will love it because it’s coming from you.”

Harry smiles a little and nods, sitting up to reach one last time for the tape and paper. “Thanks Li,” he says as the other boy gets up to leave the room.

“Anytime, Harry. Oh, and don’t forget to clean up this mess. Honestly, I can’t see how you boys deal with filth all the time.” Liam says, shaking his head at the disarray of paper as he makes his way out of the room.

*** 

A few weeks later, the X-Factor is over and Christmas is just one day away. Sadly, One Direction had come in third, and for Harry, it was the devastation on Louis’ face that broke him apart and made him start to cry. When Zayn said that it wasn’t the last of One Direction, Harry was filled with the hope that no matter what happened, he would still be close with those boys that had truly become family to him. A week after their loss, Simon had called them in and told them he wanted to sign them to his record label anyways. Words cannot even describe how excited the boys were. They still had the X-Factor tour to go, and then they would start recording their own album: so many possibilities were out there.

It was Christmas Eve and Harry was coerced into doing a solo TwitCam from the hotel room he has been staying in before he boards the train home to Holmes Chapel. To say the 16 year old is distracted would be a massive understatement: he keeps telling the fans he’s tired so they won’t question his inattentiveness, and lies and says his laptop is dying so he can get off sooner. He feels guilty for lying to the fans like that, knowing they look forward to this time with the boys. But in his defense, Harry has a pretty good reason for it all; well, at least it’s a good reason in his mind. Louis.

That morning, all five boys had gotten together to exchange Christmas presents. After spending a good twenty minutes throwing around the wrapping paper, singing carols at the top of their lungs, finding Liam and Zayn snogging in their room where they were supposedly packing, and shoving Louis’ birthday cake in his face, Zayn, Liam and Niall had all boarded the trains home. Now only Harry and Louis are left in London, waiting until the later trains to travel home for the holidays. He wants to surprise Louis with his gift before he leaves, wants to make sure Louis realizes just how much effort he put into the present.

Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the Rihanna video on the screen and stop focusing on how cute Louis’ little feet would look in brand new TOMS, Harry notices a question asking what he got the boys for Christmas.

“Does anyone want to see Louis’ Christmas present I bought him?” Harry asks with a little smile. “Well it’s not his Christmas present, it’s his birthday present,” he corrects himself as he reaches over to grab the present off his nightstand. 

“This is Louis’ birthday present,” Harry says, proudly, showing the gift to the viewers. “It even has a little bow on it. I wrapped it myself.”

*** 

A couple hours before he’s due at the train station, Harry walks down the hall to Louis’ hotel room, and knocks tentatively on the door. He hears a loud bang, followed by a crash, and quite a bit of swearing before the door is finally thrown open to reveal a disheveled, wide-smiling Louis, a jumper in one hand, a pair of trainers in the other.

“Haz! I was wondering when you were going to drop by,” the older boy exclaims, dropping the items of clothing to pull his younger friend into a tight hug. As Louis’ small, gentle hands firmly encircle his waist, Harry allows himself to drop his head right into the crook of Louis’ neck, taking in his smell and enjoying the feeling of being held. Just as soon as the hug started, it’s over, Harry immediately missing the feeling of those protective arms. “Come in here and help me pack, love. Somehow it seems I’ve gotten even messier since leaving the X-Factor house.”

Harry follows the small boy into his hotel room and instantly agrees. The room is in complete shambles: it seems that Louis’ over-flowing suitcase has tumbled off the bed, spilling its contents all over the floor and knocking over a lamp in the process. “Now you see why Liam won’t share a room with you.”

“Ha ha, very funny Hazza,” Louis says with a fake grimace, totally aware that his nit-picky bandmate would go absolutely berserk if he had to live in such a sty. “Well don’t just stand there, help me pack!”

For the next thirty minutes or so, the two boys run all over Louis’ little hotel room, grabbing braces, cardigans, hats, and random mementos stolen from the X-Factor set, throwing them into the three suitcases laid out on the bed. By the time they are finished, it looks as if the untidy boy had never been there. The collapse onto the bed, huffing from the exertion it took to close the last, tiny, completely over-packed suitcase.

“Thank you, love. Don’t know if I would’ve been able to do that by myself.” Harry looks over into his friends ocean-blue eyes, and smile shyly as he always does whenever Louis pays him even the smallest of compliments.

“I’m glad I could help.”

For a few minutes the two lay there in ease, staring into each other’s eyes, their quiet breathing the only noise breaking the comfortable silence. Harry breaks the silence to ask: “So did you have a good 19th birthday?”

Louis grins brightly, nodding his head quickly and saying, “Definitely! Of course it was a bit more low-key then my birthdays usually are. But breakfast with my boys and a Fifa marathon was the perfect way to celebrate.”

Harry is glad to hear that, knowing that usually Louis throws himself an extravagant Christmas/Birthday party every year, and he was worried that the crazy lad would miss his typical excessive festivities. “Good. Oh! Wait here and I’ll be right back,” Harry exclaims, scrambling off the bed, out the door, down the hall, and into his own room. He grabs the wrapped shoes from where he left it on his bed, shaking his head at the fact that he almost forgot about Louis’ present.

Returning to the other boys room, Harry stands shyly in the doorway, watching Louis attempt to make up the disordered bed, and then give up in a huff. Giggling to himself, Harry enters the room, package behind his back.

“Happy birthday, Boobear,” Harry says, grinning as he whips the gift from around his back and places it dramatically in the birthday boys hands. “And many more!”

“Aw, Harry! You didn’t have to do that babe!” Louis cries, giving his pleased friend a little kiss on the cheek before sitting down on the bed and motioning for Harry to join him. He inspects the wrapping carefully, before saying, “This is very nicely wrapped.”

As if it is possible, Harry’s already bright red cheeks flush again. “I wrapped it myself.”

“You did not! This looks practically professional, Haz!” Louis praises, looking at his little friend affectionately. “Well, don’t I feel special.” After a few more moments of silent praise and admiration, Louis carefully starts to open his birthday present after a nod of encouragement from Harry. First, he takes off the little gold bow and perches it on his silly little head. Then he cautiously begins to lift the tape, so as not to rip the gold, Christmas-y paper, before finally pulling out the TOMS shoebox. With an incredulous look at Harry, Louis slowly opens the box, and his face lights up when he sees the shoes.

“Harry, oh my God, they’re perfect! How did you know I needed new TOMS? And bright red too? I love them, Haz! You know what’s funny, I was going to ask for these for Christmas, but I had already asked for the new Fifa so I figured that would be too much. Wow, Haz, you’re amazing, thank you so much, love!” Louis cries, throwing his arms around his blushing friend, before ripping off his converse to place his bare feet in the new, red shoes. He stands up and walks around a little bit, vainly checking his feet out, before returning to the bed and giving Harry another gigantic hug. “I swear, Curly, your face is brighter than my shoes,” Louis says with a laugh, patting the tomato-red cheek affectionately. Harry snickers, returning the hug, loving that Louis can hardly seem to keep his hands off of him.

“I’m glad you like them.”

“Of course I love them! They’re from you, silly! Now, close your eyes while I get your present.”

“But it’s not my birthday, Lou; you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Oh, shut up, Hazza. It’s the day before Christmas, and you’re my best friend. Now be quiet, and close those bright green eyes of yours,” Louis says, getting up off the bed to rummage around in one of his bags. Harry closes his eyes eagerly, wondering what he’s gotten. A couple seconds later, a small something is placed gently on his lap, and the Louis is whispering in his ear, breath tickling his cheek, “Ok, open them.”

In front of him is a small wooden picture frame with the words love always painted around it in green and blue paint. And in the frame is a picture of Harry and Louis, smiling widely, arms draped around each other’s shoulders. With a gasp, Harry realizes when this was taken. Looking at Louis in awe, he says, “This is from… After we first met, when you told me I would be going places? And then you made your mother take our picture?”

Louis grins, bringing his hand up to lightly caress the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. “I wanted to get you something personalized, something you could look at and remember me when we aren’t together. My mother had emailed me the pictures from those first few days, and I saw this picture and figured it would be perfect. I remember how I felt when I first met you, Haz. You were so excited to be there, so cute and innocent and happy to be alive. And then when I heard your voice. God, Hazza, I just knew you’d be a star someday. I supposed I’d get a picture with you then, just so even if I never saw you again, I’d always have a little something to remember you by. But you have made it, Curly! We’ve made it! And I’m so excited I get to stay with you, be with you, for at least a little while longer.”

Stunned, Harry stares open-mouthed at the little frame, then up at Louis’ sincere face, then back to the picture, then back at Louis. And then, he’s leaning forward and his lips are on Louis’ and it feels so good, feels so right and he wants to leave his lips there forever. Suddenly, he realizes what he’s doing, and Harry quickly pulls back, apologetic and nervous. Louis just looks at him, mouth agape with surprise. Harry’s mind starts to flip out because he just kissed Louis. He just kissed Louis. He can’t just go around kissing his friends! Harry anxiously looks down at the picture frame in his hands, fingers tightly gripping the little wooden sides, stomach in knots, staring furiously at the little picture because he can’t just go around kissing his friends.

“Haz?” Louis asks, tentatively, interrupting Harry’s mental beating, warm fingers gripping Harry’s chin and turning his face so that his green eyes are just two inches away from Louis’ blue ones. Slowly, Louis leans forward, pressing his forehead against the younger boys, breath lightly ghosting along the plump pink lips. Harry’s heartbeat picks up, panicky and thrilled butterflies mingling to jump around his stomach. “Did you mean it?”

Licking his lips, Harry manages to whisper a shaky “Yes,” and he doesn’t think he’s ever meant anything more in his entire life. And then Louis’ mouth is easing over his, deliberate and leisurely and tender and sweet, one hand fisted in the back of Harry’s curly hair, the other hand lightly snaking around Harry’s waist to bring him closer. Harry’s hands move to shyly cup Louis’ jaw, tentatively nibbling on Louis’ bottom lip and smiling when the boy moans his appreciation. When Louis licks into his mouth, Harry can actually feel his brain going fuzzy, not entirely sure if it’s from lack of air or sheer happiness, and not really caring either way.

When they finally break the kiss, gasping for air, heads still pressed together, hands still holding one another close, lips close, Harry can’t help but smile at the 19 year old. Louis grins back cheekily, pressing one last kiss to Harry’s pink lips before pulling the boy down to lay on the bed with him.

*** 

For the next hour and a half before they are due at the train station, the two of them cuddle on the bed, talking about nothing and giggling like the idiots they are and kissing and touching and just enjoying being with one another. When security knocks on the door and tells them it’s finally time for them to leave, they reluctantly untangle themselves from each other, and slowly get up. Harry helps Louis drag his bags downstairs, before grabbing his one suitcase out of his room and joining him in the hotel lobby. The two go outside and get into the town car waiting for them, sitting in silence, holding hands tightly, not sure of what to say.

When they get to the train station, it’s almost 11 pm so the train station is pretty much vacant. They release hands but stay close to each other, walking behind their security guards to the nearly-empty platform that will take Louis off to Doncaster and away from Harry. They get there just in time: the train is just arriving and the doors haven’t opened yet.

Louis puts down his bags, and looks over at Harry, smiling gently before pulling him into a tight hug. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll see you soon,” he whispers into Harry’s warm neck. “I’ll call and text you every day and we’ll be back together soon.”

Harry nods aggressively, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall down his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he’s crying; afterall, they’ll be back in London rehearsing for the X-Factor tour right after New Years. A week and a half isn’t that long to be away from one another, right?

Louis unhappily pulls away from the hug, frowning at the sight of Harry’s tears, wiping them away with the pad of his thumb. “Hey now, none of that, yeah? I can’t have my boyfriend running around crying about silly things like separate holidays.”

Startled, Harry stares into Louis’ eyes, wondering if he heard correctly. “B-boyfriend?” he manages to croak out, praying to all that is good and holy in the world that the blue-eyed boy isn’t messing with him. Because if there’s one thing that could possibly make this already fantastic Christmas Ever any better would be walking away with a new boyfriend. Especially if that boyfriend happened to be Louis.

“Well, yeah? If you want to be? My boyfriend, that is?” Louis asks curiously, chuckling when a huge smile spread across his curly-haired boyfriends face. “See that’s more like it. Smile more often, I like to see your dimples.”

The train doors open, and a flurry of the few passengers on the platform rush forward to get the best seats. Louis pulls Harry in for one last squeeze, giving him a discreet kiss on the neck, before grabbing his bags and pushing his way onto one of the unoccupied cars. Harry watches for a little bit, making sure Lou gets on the train alright. Even after the doors close, he makes the guards linger for a bit, just to make sure that the train leaves properly. He grins when he sees Louis’ face pressed up against one of the windows, making goofy faces at him, then kicking up his feet so Harry can see that he’s still wearing the bright red TOMS.

The train finally departs, Harry waving and waving until the last car has left the station. Sighing, he picks up his suitcase and follows the security guards to his own train platform. He sits on a bench and waits to board the train, taking a couple pictures with the few fans present at the deserted train station, and getting excited about going home to Cheshire. After all, he misses his mother and sister, it’ll be nice to see his friends at home, and he could really use a couple days of sleep and rest. Then he’ll be back in London, back with Louis, right where he belongs.

When he finally is able to board the train, Harry curls up in a window seat, and waves goodbye to one of the little girls who asked for his picture. He takes out the picture Louis gave him, smiles, and spends the rest of the trip home day dreaming about Louis, his boyfriend.

*** 

Two weeks later, the five boys are back in London, starting rehearsals for the X-Factor Live Tour. Although they just arrived that morning, they are already in the studio, going over vocals and blocking choreography, which is really just a lot of synchronized walking around because, as everyone knows, One Direction can’t dance. So Harry hasn’t really had a chance to really be with Louis. He got a “Hey babes!”, a quick kiss, and hair ruffle before they had to get serious, but it isn’t enough for Harry.

When they finally get a break, Louis grabs Harry by the arm and drags him out of the rehearsal space and into an empty corridor. And then everything is better because Louis’ lips are on his and their breaths are mingling and Louis’ hands are all over Harry: in his hair, running down his back and around to his chest, cupping his bum and poking his dimple. Harry is positively sure that he doesn’t want to be anywhere else with anyone else. He wants to spend the rest of his life learning the contours and curves of Louis’ perfect little body and exploring his mouth til all he knows is what Louis’ tastes like. And he wants to hold hands with Louis and go on dinner dates with Louis and cook for Louis and watch scary movies with Louis and cuddle with Louis and sleep with Louis and LouisLouisLouisLouis.

“Well would you look at what we have here,” a very happy and annoying Irish voice calls from down the hall. Harry groans internally at the sound of Niall’s teasing. “I don’t know about everyone else, but it looks to me like Harry and Louis are playing a little game of tonsil hockey instead of taking a wee and grabbing a drink like they said they were.” He, Zayn, and Liam walk towards the couple, laughing, and not seeming to be phased by the furious make out session happening right before their eyes.

“Fuck off, Niall,” Louis mutters when he notices the three boys are right in front of them, and resumes the very serious task of making Harry moan like a cat in heat. Of course the other boys just stand there, smirking and staring and trying to make the situation as awkward as possible.

“Ok fine, you have our attention,” Harry splutters, finally trying to pull away from his persistent boyfriend, who refuses to stop placing kisses and little nibbles on Harry’s exposed neck. “Now what is it that you wanted again?”

“Nothing, lads, just enjoying the show really,” Zayn grins, “Don’t let us stop you from eating each other’s faces off, but we do have to get back into rehearsal.”

Louis finally looks up and glares at the Bradford lad, but reluctantly takes his hands out from beneath Harry’s shirt. “Must we? This was way too short of a break.”

“You’ve been gone for almost twenty minutes, Lou!” Liam cries, shaking his head with laughter. 

“Has it really been that short of time?” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s hand as they head back to the rehearsal studio. “You could have given us at least an hour to get reacquainted.”

“Is that what you were doing back there? Reacquainting your face with his tongue?” Niall chortles, laughing way too hard at his own joke. The five boys walk down the hallway together: Niall and Louis arguing about the ethics of refreshing the memory with a good old-fashioned snog; Zayn and Liam quietly doing a little reacquainting of their own, softly discussing their vacations and brushing their hands together when they think no one is watching; and Harry happily watching his boys, thinking of all the good times they’ll have together, and all the memories they’ll make. He has the best boyfriend in the world, the greatest friends and bandmates he could have ever dreamed of, and a very bright future indeed.

When they get to the studio, Louis gives Harry’s hand one last squeeze before letting go. They take their positions in front of the mirror with their imaginary microphones, so they can pick up where they left off, practicing Grenade for the tour.

“Nice shoes, Louis,” Niall says, pointing at the bright red TOMS on his tiny feet.

“Why thank you, Nialler! Darling Hazza bought them for me for my birthday.” Louis exclaims, practically beaming with delight. “Did you know, he even wrapped the present himself?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my very first fic ever! I actually loved writing it so I hope you liked reading it, and any feedback you have would be great =]]


End file.
